


Trust

by MaidenofIron157



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Cuddling & Snuggling, Everyone Is Poly Because Avengers, Fluff, Gen, Team as Family, can be read as platonic or not that's not up to me, remember 2012 avengers fandom man do I miss it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:55:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23119591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaidenofIron157/pseuds/MaidenofIron157
Summary: It wasn't something they’d planned on, to say the least.
Relationships: Bruce Banner & Clint Barton & Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov & Tony Stark & Thor, Bruce Banner/Clint Barton/Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov/Tony Stark/Thor
Comments: 3
Kudos: 137





	Trust

**Author's Note:**

> I've been tweaking this shit since 2012 my guys, eight years have passed and practically all of these characters were done so dirty that I've decided its as done as its gonna get. I wanted to add more, which is the reason its remained unpublished, but let's be honest. this is as good as it'll be. please enjoy and live that sweet, sweet 2012 nostalgia. remember when the team lived in the tower? man, good times. I'll be over here sobbing if you need me

It wasn't something they’d planned on, to say the least.

It had begun after another mission, this one out-of-country, and it had been gritty and exhausting and they were all running on a maximum of three hours sleep when the Quinjet arrived to pick them up. Coulson was manning it, and had set off on auto-pilot when they had all piled in and collapsed on the seats. He was the one to patch the wounds he could with the materials on hand, and Bruce had passed out, and Tony was too paranoid to remove his suit, and Clint was still jittery from having been knocked from his perch. They were all still high on adrenaline, although it had begun to lower as they tried to relax.

They were checked out in Medical, but, since none of them had any broken bones or concussions, they were left to their own devices and sent back to the Tower with nothing more than a metaphorical pat on the head, expected to sleep it all off.

All of them were just too wired to do so. They had all just sat around the living room once they got in, sprawled on various pieces of furniture, mindlessly watching the show running in front of them but not picking it up.

Thor was the one who initiated it.

He stood, hauling himself to his feet gradually, gathering everyone's attention without having to speak. And then he did; "Let us retire to my quarters."

There was a beat of silence, and then Clint asked, "Your quarters?" His tone was soft, curious, confused.

Thor nodded once. "We all need rest, and my bedchamber has the largest mattress. It would be wise to do so together, rather than apart. I fear we may not experience much sleep otherwise."

Another few beats of silence. "Okay." It was Steve who spoke, that time. His voice was hoarse from screaming into the comm., but he still managed to assert some authority in the tone. He knew just as well as the rest of them that it was more likely they'd all be having night terrors for the next week or two. Being in a group just might stave them off that much longer.

Thor nodded once more, then crossed the room to where Tony was curled up in his armchair. He looked up at him with a furrowed brow, but didn't protest when he was picked up by the larger man and cradled in the crook of his arm. He coiled his arms around the broad shoulders to keep some semblance of balance, and peered out at the others clustered around the living area, who were all looking at him curiously, no doubt somewhat surprised that he wasn't putting up a fight. But they were all fatigued, and Tony was no different. They wouldn't judge.

Thor then moved to the love seat beside the armchair, where Clint was crouched on the armrest beside Natasha, both of their eyes sharp as they watched him. He easily hefted him up off the cushions, as he was the one who had twisted his ankle during the fight, despite saying he was fine. Cooling gel and medical tape had been applied and bound to the joint, but it would still take time to heal completely. Clint could work through pain, but it wasn't necessary. Not here.

Clint stiffened slightly, although it was clear it was because the movement had jostled his ankle, and not because of the contact. He'd had every opportunity to not be picked up, to vault off the back of the love seat and start walking instead. But he hadn't, and Thor appreciated that. Having living, breathing proof that his teammates were alive and well and within arm's reach was something he needed right now.

There was no doubt they all felt the same.

Thor stood back up to full height, keeping his grip on Tony and Clint secure as he addressed the others; "Come." He then walked to the elevator and offered a nod of gratitude to JARVIS at large when it was opened for him. When he turned back around within the elevator car, metallic doors sliding shut in his wake, it was to see Steve, Natasha, and Bruce standing in front of him, having silently slipped inside behind him. Their presence was comforting. He could feel Tony and Clint's heart rates relax even further.

They made it to Thor's floor quickly, and they all exited the lift to make their way to the bedroom. The blond could already feel Tony nodding off against his shoulder, but he couldn't have that quite just yet. For any of them. He motioned to the large mattress with his head, keeping his grip on Tony and Clint steady. "Lay down. I will be back shortly to collect you."

Clint raised his head to look at him curiously, but not with distrust, and Tony let out a soft whine into his shoulder at the fact that he wouldn't be able to sleep yet. Thor calmly quieted his noises of distress. Bruce spoke up, "Collect us? For what?" He, too, was curious, but held no fear. Natasha led him and Steve to the bed, climbing atop it and settling into the furs comfortably.

"You will see," Thor promised, turning and moving into the adjoined washroom. It was spacious and adorned fondly, and the taps were already running, courtesy of JARVIS' forward thinking, for which Thor was grateful. Clint seemed to understand what he was planning, and merely let out a sigh as he was placed on the sink counter. Tony was clinging to Thor, not wanting to give up his chance for slumber, but didn't put up a fight to be set down beside Clint. He was blinking large brown eyes around the room, trying to keep himself awake, and allowed Thor to begin removing his clothes without protest. There was still dried dirt and blood and sweat caked onto their skin, and Thor had no doubt the others would be the same, but that was only half of the reason for the bath.

He finished freeing Tony of his restrictive clothing, moving onto Clint and dropping it all into a crumpled heap after he was finished with the gauze and cooling gel that had been wrapped around his foot. Tony's eyes had gained back some of their liveliness, calculating but warm, flitting to and from different things and taking it in. His gaze often returned to Clint's bruised ribs and discolored ankle, and Clint's own sharp vision was trained on the many scrapes and lumps on Tony's own skin, the stretched flesh around the arc reactor, how it glowed and hummed, or at least until the taps stopped flowing. Steam circled the room, the air warm and damp, and Thor lifted them back up into his arms before depositing them into the bath.

The water was hot and soothing on their aching muscles, if the groans of relief they let out after their skin broke the surface was anything to go by. Thor let them relax into the warmth, and they leant against opposite sides of the tub, heads back and legs entwined. It was the most relaxed Thor had seen either of them.

He knelt beside the tub and retrieved the soap bar and a washcloth, lathering it as Clint dunked his head under the water. Tony watched, but made no move to do the same, so Clint shifted forward and cupped his hands to dump some onto his hair. Tony allowed it, but he was stiff as Clint continued, something the assassin easily picked up on. He brushed the loose wet bangs that had been plastered to Tony's head back with the rest of his hair, going slowly so he wouldn't feel threatened.

Clint grunted as Thor began scraping the dirt and grime from his back and shoulders, head lolling as he let his muscles uncoil. Tony quietly chuckled, sounding slightly hoarse and bringing his own hands up to comb through his knotted locks of hair. He didn't mention the soft gasp Clint let out as his arms were cleaned, as they were the most covered in the remnants of dust and debris as well as the most bruised. Thor went slowly, but the pain still resonated.

He moved from Clint's arms to his chest and abdomen, steadily removing the gathered filth with ease before continuing on to wash his legs. Clint stretched out languidly, water sloshing around him and Tony, his eyes beginning to slide shut. Tony wasn't much more awake, and his shoulders were starting to hunch from the effort of keeping his head up, but at least his eyes were open. Thor finished washing him and rinsed the washcloth free of dirt and grime before lathering it again to clean their resident genius. Tony let out a noise when the cloth and soap hit his skin, and his bones seemed to turn to jelly. He couldn't even muster up the customary glare he would give Clint when he chuckled.

When all was said and done and the two were rinsed with fresh water as the remnants were sucked down the drain, Thor retrieved two large fluffy towels from the cabinet he stored them in, ushering them from the tub to dry them off before they began shivering. He patted them down, careful of their bruises, of which seemed all the more prominent now due to their clear skin, and dried their hair as best he could. Their skin, though mottled with blues and purples and angry reds, was fresh and soft, and even Tony seemed impressed with the handiwork. Thor fetched extra clothing from his supply beneath the sink, and decided to dress them himself as to keep them from exerting themselves. They both put up halfhearted arguments, but were eventually coerced into over-large t-shirts and sweatpants, where the drawstrings had to be pulled as taut as physically possible so that the waistband wouldn't dip, and Clint's ankle had its ice pack and gauze reapplied with little trouble.

They both looked so incredibly exhausted. Tony had dark patches of color under his eyes that never really seemed to go away, and were only more pronounced now after such a grueling battle. He was wavering where he stood. Clint was hardly better off; he kept blinking to stay awake, and appeared seconds away from collapsing onto the floor. Thor took it upon himself to haul the both of them up into his arms again and exit the washroom.

Steve, Bruce, and Natasha were all still waiting on his bed, all seeming to be that much closer to unconsciousness as the minutes ticked by. Natasha was the first to look up when he entered, but aside from a raised eyebrow said nothing. Thor could feel the gentle puffs of air coming from the two in his arms; they were already sound asleep. He gingerly lowered them onto the soft blankets and furs that made up his covers, and they immediately latched onto each other after Thor became unavailable.

He looked to the remaining members of the team and said, "Do you wish for me to carry you?"

They all exchanged glances, as though waiting for someone else to bring him up on the offer, until Bruce sighed. "My legs are starting to go numb, actually."

Thor simply nodded and moved forward, lifting him into his arms with ease. Bruce settled stiffly, and Steve rose from the mattress soon after with Natasha close behind as they followed him back to the washroom.

"…We’re not all taking a shower at the same time, are we?" Steve asked, voice hesitant as Natasha closed the door behind them.

Thor set Bruce down on the sink counter, and cast Steve an inquisitive glance. "If you do not want to, I certainly won’t force you to, Steven," he said. "There is spare clothing here." He motioned to the cabinet under the sink. "You may change in the opposite room, if you wish."

Steve averted his eyes and wrung his wrists together uneasily, prompting Natasha to pick up where Thor left off. "It's fine, Steve," she said, keeping her tone light. "We're all tired and disgusting. Personally, I don't mind being a little pampered."

Bruce shrugged as Thor began unbuttoning his shirt. "I'm willing to spend a few years sleeping right now. It'd be better if I wasn't covered in plaster."

Steve still looked unsure, and Thor repeated that he could change in the other room. "I do not wish to make you uncomfortable, Steven."

"No, I–" He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face and through his hair to rest on the back of his neck. He was staring into space, trying to explain. "I'd really, _really_ like to wash off right now, because honestly, that sounds amazing, but being in a room with my friends without any clothes on is kind of…" He struggled to find the right words, and couldn’t seem to find them, to his frustration. “We all shared showers in the barracks, when… so it’s not… I just, I–I don’t…”

"You may come back in to wash yourself later, if you'd like," Thor offered, removing Bruce's shirt and crumpling it to throw it into the steadily growing pile. "Bathing together is common practice on Asgard, a way to relieve oneself of their troubles. Many warriors who return from battlefronts often do so. I would have brought you all in at once, but there is not enough space to accommodate."

"Can I… later?" Steve asked, face flushing as he fidgeted in place. "I don't want to seem rude, it’s just…"

"Nonsense, Steven," Thor assured. "You may come back in once we are done."

Steve looked like someone had lifted a weight off his shoulders, and sighed out a relieved, “Thank you," before making a tactile retreat.

They all had fond looks on their faces once the door closed behind him, and then Thor returned to undressing Bruce as Natasha did the same with herself. As soon as they were both ready, Thor prepared the bath again, making sure it was just the right temperature, and urged both of them into the water. (Well, he had to pick Bruce back up and set him down into the tub, but regardless.) It went much the same way as the first, with Thor cleaning the two of them off individually, but Bruce actually did fall asleep sitting upright two or three times, and Natasha had had to poke his shoulder to wake him back up with a snort. They were soon both dried and clothed, and Thor brought them back out to the bedroom where Tony and Clint were still fast asleep and gently snoring, and where Steve was standing awkwardly by the door. Once Bruce, who was also now asleep, was laid down on the mattress and Natasha climbed nimbly after him to settle in, Thor motioned to Steve that the washroom was all his. Flushing slightly, the other man nodded, and soon enough the door was closed behind him.

Thor spent the time it took for Steve to finish washing up fiddling with the bed sheets. Natasha had already successfully tucked herself up to her chin, but the others had been simply lying on top of them, and obviously Thor needed to rectify that before they got cold in the middle of the night. As a result, when Steve _did_ finally leave the bathroom, looking significantly more refreshed but just as exhausted, the rest of their teammates were practically cocooned in a plethora of thick furs and blankets.

Steve blinked at the sight, and Thor offered a slightly abashed smile before waving him over to join the group. He didn’t seem to have the same reluctance to bed-sharing as he did to collective bathing, and let himself become a part of the cocoon next to Natasha with no resistance. “Sleep,” Thor told him, patting the bed definitively. “I will be back shortly.” Steve didn’t answer aside from a soft hum, but he didn’t need any more than that, so he left him be.

After dumping all of their soiled clothing into the laundry chute, he took his own steaming hot shower before returning to his teammates, now all blessedly slumbering. It would only be a matter of time before Clint broke free of the blankets and sprawled out of his own accord, but for now, Thor simply slipped in on Steve’s free side and settled down with a deep sigh to finally rest.

**Author's Note:**

> the only thing I kind of regret is how I characterized steve? I don't really think he'd be that up in arms about bathing w the team, but that's definitely what I thought when I started writing this and the second cap movie hadn't come out yet! so it stayed in bc I'm lazy. bleh
> 
> ah well, hope you enjoyed it


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